Poem

Poem: “Snow” by Louis MacNeice

Louis MacNeice (1907-1963) was one of Northern Ireland best-known poets, and an exciting radio playwright and producer in the early days of BBC drama.  A friend posted this poem of his today on social media – and it’s too good not to share.  If you have snow today outside your window – well, perhaps this will make even more sense to you, and you can enjoy the poem’s sense of colour, distinctive aloud light, smell and taste.

SNOW BY LOUIS MACNEICE

The room was suddenly rich and the great bay-window was
Spawning snow and pink roses against it
Soundlessly collateral and incompatible:
World is suddener than we fancy it.

World is crazier and more of it than we think,
Incorrigibly plural. I peel and portion
A tangerine and spit the pips and feel
The drunkenness of things being various.

And the fire flames with a bubbling sound for world
Is more spiteful and gay than one supposes –
On the tongue on the eyes on the ears in the palms of one’s hands –
There is more than glass between the snow and the huge roses.

You can hear the poem read aloud (not by its writer) here.

(both poem and reading were found at The Poetry Exchange website).

 

 

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Poem written for Henry Moore

This day last week, I was in a writing workshop (led by Kate Hastie) on how to make a poem response to artworks (“Ekphrasis”).  In response to this lithograph by Henry Moore, “Upright Motives” – I wrote this:

IMG_3879

 

 

For Henry Moore “Upright Motives”

 

Reinterpreting the body with his pen,

Henry watches his model moving about the room

in velvet sunlight

Heads are too complicated,

he boils one down to a piece of broccoli

As the waist is to the mouth

as the rib is to the flag

as the neck is a tree

the knees are tiered like Padi fields

circling round a mountain

 

A lozenge, a curve,

a salsa dancing line to the shoulders

a lightness and brightness

an awkward hip

 

like double basses made by a surrealist,

listed unbuildings

flickering flames

 

Bones like a xylophone

armoured suits

beat a crackle allure

like the bones falling together

into soft places

 

© Heather Gregg, 2017

 

 

ordinary love poem (under 2 minutes)

When Frank O’Hara, poet with the day job of curating in the Museum of Modern Art  (New York), writes a love poem, it naturally mentions a great deal of art – as well as something as simple and everyday as sharing a fizzy drink.

Creative Takeaways:

  • Write daily.  This is good practice and gets you into daily being aware of noticing what’s going on around you and in your own heart and mind – and getting at least some of that down on paper.  It will give you a great deal more of written material than waiting for “the muse to descend”.

(more…)

When shall I be creative?

When and where shall I be creative?  Well – it is up to you – but do read this poem by Charles Bukowski for some insight:

“–you know, I’ve either had a family, a job, something
has always been in the
way
but now
I’ve sold my house, I’ve found this
place, a large studio, you should see the space and
the light.
for the first time in my life I’m going to have a place and
the time to
create.”
no baby, if you’re going to create
you’re going to create whether you work
16 hours a day in a coal mine
or
you’re going to create in a small room with 3 children
while you’re on
welfare,
you’re going to create with part of your mind and your
body blown
away,
you’re going to create blind
crippled
demented,
you’re going to create with a cat crawling up your
back while
the whole city trembles in earthquakes, bombardment,
flood and fire.
baby, air and light and time and space
have nothing to do with it
and don’t create anything
except maybe a longer life to find
new excuses
for.

 

(poem found on “Hello Poetry” blog)

Poem as wise advice – Rachel Macy Stafford

 

Maybe the best thing you could do right now is just sit with it awhile.
Maybe the bravest thing you could do right now is just decide this will not defeat you.
Maybe the most productive thing you could do right now is just fold your hands in solitude.
Maybe the most sensible thing you could do right now is just laugh … laugh in the face of it all.
Maybe the most powerful thing you could do right now is just close your eyes and envision a positive outcome.
Maybe the most loving thing you could do right now is just give yourself room to breathe.
Maybe the best thing to do right now looks like nothing at all.
But it’s not.
Because when you’re gathering hope,
it’s patient.
When you’re gathering strength,
it’s quiet.
When you’re gathering resilience,
it’s unnoticeable.
In the face of challenge and uncertainty,
Sometimes the best thing you can do right now
is just hold on.
© Rachel Macy Stafford 2014